A SPIRIT THAT MOVES AMONG OUR PEOPLE and means to do great harm to many of us cloaks itself in many shapes. An extreme aversion to what is perceived as cultural shifts in the USA hides behind ideas of patriotism or English-fetish and manifests as cruelty.
IMAGINE that it is my job to help choose a name for a baby boy that was due to be born yesterday and may be born today…or tomorrow. Or the next day. Now, dust off that favorite Spanish or Nahuatl name you’ve turned over in your mind and drop it in the suggestion box.
IN ALL WAYS it pays every day to turn our backs on the corrupt, corporate, soulless and mediocre messaging being pushed down our throats and into our ears. Hypnotists and salesmen for the Murkan SleepDream are working fulltime behind the glossy televised scenes, and they can shift from disaster to pablum to syrupycheer quicker than you can move your hands to plug up your ears.
Taking Spanish classes in 2006 wasn’t easy. I had to leave my friend behind. My friend, my magical power, my lifeboat. The English Language. I had to agree, for an hour at a time, to get out and walk. To know nothing. (Or very little.) To be quiet. Or I didn’t have to agree to be quiet. But for once, there was no other choice.
Mi corazón tendría la forma de un zapato if a siren lived in every village. Pero la noche es interminable when it leans on the sick and there are ships that want to be seen para poder hundirse tranquilos.
House of Nezua
the XOLAGRAFIK theater!
